>S 3531 
.U3 N4 
1915 
Copy 1 


















Needmore 's 

Rag- Time 

Poems 



m 



-BY- 



MARTIN PUCKETT 



Munfordville, Ki;. 






.H^' 




J. M. PUCKETT 

KENTUCKY'S NATURAL BORN POET 



PREFACE 



It 18 a rare gift to be able to look on the foibles and 
follies of mankind with chamty. The best way to reform 
men is to sliow them their faults and follies in a charitable 
way, and if they mnst be stnng to remove the poison from 
the sting. 

Martin Puokett is, in the truest sense, a poet of nature. 
He Avas reared among the snnkissed purple hills of Ken- 
tucky and there, while a boy, working on his father's farm, 
he drank in the music of the birds and the hills and with 
the consummate skill of the real poet he has injected this 
music into his poetry. 

He is always quick to see the tragedy and sadness of 
life, and in many of his poems he has shown that pathos 
that leaves no room to doul)t of its genuineness. But the 
most characteristic trait of the author of the following 
poems is his keen sense of humor and the ch.arity with 
which he deals with the faults and follicp of man. 

The greatest reformers the woT"ld ever knew were men 
who could make people laugh. IMartin Puckett does not 
laugh at people, he laughs with them. The man of wit may 
see the ludicrous side of life and speak of it with a brilliant 
dash, but he is apt to leave a v/ound in the heart of the vic- 
tim of his shaft, but ^Martin is a humorist and the vietiuis 
of his satire laugh as heartily as any one. 

The most remarkal)le thing about the author is that li-^ 
has never ])een to school and he can scarcely read and write. 
l)ut the meter of many of his poems is perfect. The nuisic 
and meter of the following poems were not formed by tlie 



rules of composition. It is the music of nature, and the 
rhymes of nature. 

]\Iartin Puckett is a young man and no one can tell 
how the world will receive this first pulilication of his works. 
But I am going to predict that some day Martin Puckett 's 
name will be written in Jetters of gold on the walls of the 
Ilall of Fame, and that among literary people and lovers of 
nature his fame will l)e like a star that scintillates along the 
waves of time. A Friend. 




^'^v 




DEC 2 1 (915 



J|ntraburtt0n 



Neechuore's ragtime Poems. 

Have safely now arrived. 
Just from the press at Bowling Green: 

Shipped out on Number Five. 

i\Iany an anxious heart is waiting, 

Its pages to peruse ; 
While the author's heart is beating; 

And his soul is much enthused. 

The natural man is mortal, 
Sometime we'll pass away; 

But Need more 's ragtime poems 
Is ])orn in the world to stay. 



Copyrighted 1915 By 
MARTIN I'UCKETT 



THE PLACE WHERE I WAS BORN. 

In the hills of old Kentucky. 

With her golden yellow corn ; 
My mind runs back to childhood 

To the place where I was born. 

In a little old log cabin. 

With its rafters made of poles, 
Beneath the roof shone brightly 

And the walls were full of holes. 

Around this dear old cabin, 

When but a youthful lad, 
I learned to mind my mother, 

'Til to-day it makes me glad. 

Across the left 1 climbed the cleft. 

While yet a youthful soul ; 
I looked upon a dangerous place, 

The Philadelphia hole. 

Upon the right was a beautiful sight. 

The robin and the swallow. 
That played among the hickory leaves 

Across the groundhog hollow. 

Many things have passed since childhood days, 

The world with all its charm; 
I Tl never forget the parental roof, 

The place where I was born. 



(6) 



MY LITTLE HOME TOWN. 

Some folks tell tlieiv aneedoteS; 

But I delight in rhymes, 
I will tell you the story 
Of my little home town, 

And then von '11 he nn with the times. 



Euclid has lost one of her prominent men, 

He will never be back any more, 
It is Daniel IjeRoy 
His heart tilled with joy 

Has moved to the town of Needmore. 

Kight down the street jnst a few hundred yards 

I can hardly give you the space. 
It is plain to see 
And it really strikes me, 

It's part of the Fanbush place. 

On Second and Ohestnut they drew the plot. 
My neighl)oi', he purchased the ground 

Built him a house 

On a three cornered lot, 

Bight up in the edge of the town. 

Needmore is coming, you can hear the wheels hummins 

While Euclid was once in the lead, 
A brand ne^v store 
In the town of Needmore, 

And most everything else that we need. 

J. P. ^lorgan has passed away. 

The world will move on as before ;, 
While my neighbor grew w'se to the great enterprise 
With a basket manufacture 

In the town of Needmore. 

(7) 



I see it a-brev\'iiig, thoi-e is something a-doing 

Tiiat will make our little town complete, 
An electric light 
To swing on each corner. 

And a ear line down the street. 

You bet we will start lier when we get our Charter 

Judge .McCandless has promised to tyrant, 
.Myself and Clabe Waddle 
Wilh a brand new ^Model 
Will start an electi'ic plant. 

There is one thing that's liking, for which we're striking, 

That has made the people so sore, 
When we get our roads fixed. 
We will show you some tricks. 

I\ight in the town of Needmore. 

The Repulilican party has made a mistake, 
The Democrats will make good 1 am shore, 

Kentuckians and IToosiers 

And all tlie IJull Moosers, 

Will land a1 the town of Xeedmoi'e. 



JUST HOW I :\1A1)E A FIDDLE. 

One stormy night the wind was high, 

I changed my plans a little, 
I really got it in my head 

That I could make a fiddle. 

I laved the plan and studied hard. 

And then 1 did remember 
George Jaggers had some cherry plank, 

The very kind of timber. 

(8) 



I did not mind the work at all, 

I had to have some cash 
And make a trip to Euclid, 

Or the thing would 'be a flash. 

I really had no juoney, 

I'd spent it all for booze, 
I opened an account with TiOgsdon Joe, 

And there 1 got the screws. 

The Democrats were all in power 
There \^■as bound to be a change, 

So then 1 sent )iy Parcel Post, 
That is how 1 got the strings. 

I nmde a trade with Richardson 

To bore the holes so little. 
He did not refuse to credit me 

For he wanted to see the fiddle. 

Then I pulled for the planing mill 

As fast as 1 could toddle, 
To have the lumber all dressed down, 

To finish up the model. 

And when the wheels began to fly 
Jim Tom turned on the power; 

So then we had tlu- lumlter dressed 
In less than half an liour. 

And when the thing was all complete, 
I knew they wouldn't refuse it, 

I paid the boys a hundred per cent. 
And paid them off in music. 

(9) 



MY LITTLE COTTAGE HOME. 

Wo have no sih'ei- knives; and forks, 
AVe have no ^oklen s[)oons ; 

Just have a little cottage home 
That only has three rooms. 

[ nsed to tail upon the farm, 

I never thought to roam ; 
The greatest pride, when satisfied. 

Was at my cottage home. 

We used to be so happy there, 
Around the cottage door; 

But now I see a vacant ■•hnir 
1 neA'Cr sav. before 

The golden tliouglits of goneby days, 
Was wheji we numbered four ; 
l>ut now \ve see there are only three 
Around the cottage door. 

Just in the bloom of womanhood 
One bid us three goodbye; 

She left this little cottage home 
Eor a ^lansion in the skv. 



THE .AIAN THAT NEVEK' LIVED LN THE WEST. 

There is a r('lati\'e of mijie, who gets along fine, 

He never luis lived in the West : 
His name is not Bill, but he rr.ns a sorghmr mill. 

And I think I can tell you the i-est. 

When this relative of mine was a wee !)it of a lad. 

He sat on my granchnother's knee, 
He never got mad, and it made her feel glad, 

She said he was jusi like me. 

(10) 



1 will lell yuu how lie \vas raised, in his hoyhooil days. 

He used to pop corn in the ashes, 
His mother thought he was smart, and he really got a start 

jMaking sorghum molasses. 

Just at sixteen with a sorghum machine 

He cornered the business alright, 
He really did fine, though he cut a little shine 

And whipped an old fellow one night. 

This realtive of mine, just a few year sago, 

He really never dreamed of a wreck; 
He ran like a snail for the county jail. 

And got it right squar<^ in the neck. 

During his Santa Clans tiuu^s he used to cut shines 
Over the wagon tracks, made with a poker; 

Just fifty years ago. my grandfather Joe 
He christened this wonderful Joker. 

This relative of mine in the sweet l)ye and hye 

AVhere people never wear any glasses, 
When St. Peter swings open the Golden Gate, 

You will see iiim making sorghum molasses. 



I DREAM K I) 1 WENT TO PARADISE. 

1 dreamed I went to Paradise, 

1 had an awful fright. 
When I found no one to greet me 

Except old Colonel White. 

Wiien he met me at the station, 

He surely meant no harm, 
1 received congratulations 

Just as sure as you were born. 

(11) 



I thought it was St. Peter, 

His countenance shone so bright. 

Surprised to know my fleeter, 
It was just OJd Colonel White. 

He led me up the gold paved streets, 
With her beauties yet untold, 

And there I found some men of renown 
Were safe within the fold. 

The grandest sight while 1 was there, 

No natural eye could see, 
I looked upon the lonelv Son, 

That walked in Galli'lee. 

His raiment was as white as snow, 

A garment without a seam, 
I will leave it witli you just what to do 

If vou think this was a dream. 



THE FUNNIEST ]MAN [ EVER MET, 

My business calls me away from home. 

It has for many years ; 
The funniest man I ever met, 

His name is Sam Breshears. 

He tells his jokes while on the run 

The i^eople passing by, 
They say he is like George Washington, 

He cannot tell a lie. 

He chased the red-men in the West, 

Some twenty years ago; 
And kissed a squaw at the Panama, 

And never made a show. 

(.12) 



He strolled away another day, 
He passed so quiet and calm, 

Across the park to Doodles' Ark 
And stole away their lanil). 

So Sam, he had a little lamb, 
Its fleece w^as white as cotton. 

And every where that Sammy went, 
The lamb, it came a trotting. 

It followed him to town one day, 

AVent down the street "a-struttin' " 

He left it in a lilacksmith shop. 
They worked it up in mutton. 

He really tells these things for fun, 
You need not ask him why. 

Because he's like George AVashington, 
He cannot tell a lie. 



A POLITICAL CAIMPMEETiNG. 

Campmeetings down in Georgia 

Are nothing to compare 
To the one that was held m Euclid. 

Everybody was there. 

Republicans and Socialists, 

Bull Moosers by the score, 
A Democratic chairman, 

Of course we held the floor. 

The hoys they all got happy, 

Each one did testify 
He would stick right to the rooster 

'Till his soul passed througli the sky. 

(13) 



1 ])elieve they really meant it, 

Though their liides were filled with hooze 
Tliey said they'd vote for Eininetl, 

And hel]) tigiiti'ii up the screws. 

Ill the .Magisterial district 

Adjoining Old Cnl) Run, 
We elected Curt ^IcCoy 

Just to have a little fun. 

A grand old man from Canmer, 

Known as Professor Durhaui: 
He passed into the Court House 

For the Supei'intendent term. 

As the meeting was in progress 
Each heart was tilled with mirth, 

Nothing else would satisfy. 

.)oe Stewart must be the Sheriff. 

Dull Moosers and Republicans, 

Were made to calculate, 
And like the Irishman's chackin. 

They really "chaped" too late. 

The Democi'atic party 

With their banners floating high. 
Will tell of this Campmeeting 

In the Sweet Hve and l>v<>. 



CfRANDFATHER'S EASY CHAIR. 

Grandfather sits in his easy chair, 
riolden locks had turned to gray ; 

While Ellen Brooke, the clear old cook. 
Was cleaning the dinner away. 

A spider had crept across the stair. 
And wove his tiny nest ; 

(14) 



While tirandfalliei' sat in his easy chair, 
Keeliiiino' tliei'e in rest. 

His good old wife with gentle eare, 

Was toiling all the day. 
AVhile grandfather sat in hi*^ easy eliair. 

Sleeping his life away. 

A thonsand taps l)y little ehaps. 

Was made UT>on the floor 
AVhile there he sat in his easy chair. 

Did nothing else l)ni snore. 

Rip Yi\n Winkle slept twenty long years. 

His brain was tired and sore; 
Bnt grandfather slept in liis easy chair. 

He never waked np any more. 

Just across there hangs the old church bell, 

We heard its doleful sound, 
Grandfather removed from his easy chair, 

And placed l)eneath the ground. 

'Cross the line of worlds in the Spirit land. 

Where angels are his guests ; 
Grandfather's there in his easy chair 

Completely now at rest. 



THE STORY OF TWO LITTLE MEN. 

You have head of little Tom Thumb, how he stirred up the 
scum 

When lie fell in the bowl of soup ; 
He swam to the shore and kicked the thing o'er, 

And had a little spell of the croup. 

There is little Tom McCubbins, his corn was all nubbins, 
Plis turnips devoured by the lice ; 

(^5) 



There 's always a rumor he 's in a good humor, 
And thinks a whole lot of his wife. 

The best I remember on the first of November, 

Just at the break of the drouth. 
This little man with a hatchet in liis hand. 

Tore the roof all otf of his house. 

While he and his wife were busy as bees, 

Cleaning away the plunder. 
Said he to Miss Lou, what will we do ? 

I believe I heard it thunder. 

The tear drops trickled down the little man's cheek, 

He cut an awful caper : 
When the north wind blew and the rain came too. 

And spoiled his ceiling paper. 

All men make some sad mistakes. 

While small men weep and sorrow 
Over things they've left undone to-day, 

Awaiting for to-morrow. 



A BROKEN HEARTED PREACHER. 

On a trip across the continent, 

Wiiiie on a little spree, 
I met a man at Munfordville 

Just as happy as he could be. 

They said he was a preacher. 

His heart was filled with grace ; 
And by Gee Whizz, and if he is. 

He must have been out of his place. 

In a contest for an Auto, 

He thought it would be grand 
To ride so fact, and then at last 

He'd reach the Promised Land. 

(16) 



Meet Abraham and Jacob 

On the Golden streets so wide ; 
With a smile and a grin he wonld take them in 

To have an Auto ride. 

It made me feel so sadly 

When he met his awfnl fate: 
He got his nose skinned badly 

And missed the Crolden Gate. 



JOHN AND MARY'S SECOND COURTSHIP. 

Said John to jMary, 1 am in a quandry, 

I scarcely know what to do : 
I'm left right here with my little ones dear, 

And my heart is jnst longing for you. 

Said Mary to John, just talk right on, 

I'm looking right straight at you 
I kno\^' you are papa of course we'll lie happy 

And I have some little ones too. 

John : I have a home to call my own, 

How pleasant things might be 
Should I have no personal privilege, 

What pleasure could I see ? 

Mary: To take away one's privilege 

Humanity never give, 
Were it not for you, and my little ones too. 

Why should 1 want to live? 

John : Should it take five years to satisfy 

The longings of my heart, 
I'd gladly wait at a cottage gate 

Where we may never part. 

(17) 



BAD Ll'C'K STRUCK :\IY TIRANDl^WTHEirS HOME. 

])ad luck struck iiiy Grandfather's home 

Most fifty years ago. 
The stork he came just all the same 

And hroiight little Coo]>er Joe. 

GrandmotlieJ' was glad to see the lad. 

Her lieart was all agio^w. 
When had luck struck my Oraudtather's home, 

And fell on CJoopo- -Toe. 

His little face was mighty red. 

And awfully easily spoiled, 
And I suppose they held his nose 

And gave him castor oil. 

Some months. ])erhaps. had then elapsed, 

He didn't set^m to grow. 
Bad luck struck my Grandfather's home. 

And fell on Cooper Joe. 

And then at last he grew so fast, 

The people he did fool ; 
He made a trade without the cash. 

And bought a little mule. 

He thought he'd made a powerful trade, 

And gave his reason why. 
His little steers were long in years 

And mules, they never die. 

He went out to feed his little steed 

As slick as any mole. 
An epidemic had struck his mule : 

It died with an awful cold. 

(18) 



And lie really believes it had the heaves, 

Some things he does not know, 
Sine.' had luck struck my Grandfathe]''s home 

And fell on Cooper -loc. 

The peo]^le >;\y he's moved awny, 

And left all in a haste. 
To his cottage home no more to roam, 

I'pon the Sam Wood place. 

And then he thought this home he bought 

He'd have a better show; 
l>ad luck struck my Grandfather's home. 

And fell on Cooper Joe. 

The chickens scratch his turnip patch, 

He has no grass to mow ; 
Bad luck struck my Grandfather's home, 

And it fell on Cooper Joe. 



WHEN SHE TOOK AlK IX THE MERHY-GO-ROUND. 

AVhen I was a lad of just about sixteen. 

My father, he took me to town. 
Never so happy in the land : thcn-e T met my Sally Ann 

AVhen she took me in Ihe merry-go-round. 

The air seemed to float, through my see-more coat. 

As I climbed up the moss-covered mound, 
To carry out my plan with my little Sally Ann, 

Whi'u she took me in the merry-go-round. 

Tile choir began to sing some ragtime song. 

The echo was a wonderful sound, 
AVhen 1 joined in the band with my little Sally Ann, 

AVhen she took me in the merry-go-round. 

(19) 



I might tell you the story of Queen Victoria, 
When she wore that beautiful crown, 

She never looked grand like my little Sally Ann, 
When she took me in llie nierrv-go-round. 



A MVSTEKTOUS DREA]\I. 



I dreamed one time I matle a rhyme, 
And thought I'd make one more, 

And tell the tale of the County Jail, 
And the election of Scott Poore. 

There were thirteen men iJiat had the grin, 

All in the Jailer's race; 
But Uncle Scott he swept the pot 

And never broke the pace. 

At number six lie showed some tricks. 
Number one and a half was sure, 

At Bonnieville was the only hill 
To pull for Mr. Poore. 

At Rowlett's station he swept creation. 
And Northtown gave some more ; 

Then Horse Cave with her tidal w^ave 
Lined up for Mr. Poore. 

And when the Summer's work is done, 

We'll plow the corn no more. 
We'll all go in and vote again. 

And vote for Mr. Poore. 

Oil Jordan's stormy banks I stand. 

And view the landscape o'er: 
I'll never fail to stop at the jail 

And shake hands with Mr. Poore. 

(20) 



TROUBLE DOWN IN TOWN. 

Some weeks ago I was called away. 

I went to Kindergarten, 
And while T was gone some boys caine along 

And whipped my neighbor Hardin. 

The rocks they flew to Hallamazoo 

Some flew in Rnsh.es' garden. 
Three or fonr strnck ^iv. Lawler's door, 

Was thrown at neighbor Hardin. 

Good folks they say the nuin is dead 

They stood aronnd his grave ; 
There was Sam Breshers, he's long in years 

Bnt yon know he can't behave. 

He said it A\as an oversight 

That cansed the man to die, 
He skinned the boys np alright, 

W^hile they pounded ont his eye. 

And iwhen they saw my neighbor dead, 

It put the boys to thinking. 
When they found his eyeball in the bed, 

'Twas lying there a-blinking. 

The thing to do was compromise 

And fix it with the Court. 
The thing for you is read this through. 

Somewhere you Will find the Poet. 



MY DEAR LITTLE COUSINS. 

I used to have a cousin 

And I guess I've got a dozen. 

They are all good looking too. 
Except three or four 

(21) 



Around the town of Noedniore, 

Tl»ey ai'c enough to make a fellow feel hlue. 

There is a curly-headed cousin, 
She was counted in the dozen. 

You need not ever ask me who, 
I've forgot her name ma,y])e. 
But she married Aunt l^ettie's ))al\v. 

She is one of the Needmore crew. 

There is a light complected cousin, 
She wishes she never wasn't. 

She married a little boy in blue, 
He is a cross-eyed schemer 
And they moved him to the weauer, 

l>ut he is one of the Needmore crew. 

This cross-eyed schemer. 

They moved him to the weaner. 

There's nothing there for him to tlo. 
He doesn't seem concernec^. 
For he knows he is ruined, 

P'or he is one of the Needmore crew. 



THE OLD r>LACKS!\[ITH SHOP. 

In Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-Six 
Sug Tom began a shop to tix, 
He entered the model and got it complete, 
And said to his wife, it can't be beat! 

I'll sharpen your colters and plows so nice 
When 1 can get me an anvil and vice, 
A hammer and punch all on the spot. 
Take down your sign Brother Willis Scott. 

In his skill he laid the plan, 

At Eucherville he'd make liis stand. 

(221 



xVikI all the uumi are sin-e to stop 

To see this wonderful blacksmith shop. 

He rans this thing hy hand and gas, 
And works for nothing Init the cash, 
And if you haven't got the pay 
You had just as well to stay a^vay. 

Sug sits back with a quiet chagrin, 

Looking for his customers in, 

At his surprise he turned around, 

He sav.- Clabe Waddle and Richard Brown. 

Conic in. young men, he said to them. 
When I get through with little Jim 
I'll sharpen your plows and do it (juick. 
And only charge yon just a nick. 

While f.^ueei: Victoria sits on her throne. 
Sug sits back in his shop alone, 
Positions with her he would not swap. 
For he had rather run his blacksmith shop. 

AT THE COUNTY FAIR. 

Away from home ai a county fair 

Just stayed a day or two. 
With Eminett Hill "^at Hodgenville 

In the County of La Rue. 

The streets were thronged with stockmen there, 

They passed me to and fro, 
A thing or two I thought T knew. 

And the lialance T tried 1o know. 

The finest horse I ever saw 

Was drove by Buren Jaggers, 
Away up there at the county fair, 

And it had the blind staggers. 

(28) 



So it was up to nie to try -^c see, 

Just what there could be done, 
The fair it seemed was on a ilra;^, 

I was bound to have some fun. 

I chuckled up Hart County boys, 

As fine as ever grow 
John Hubbard and Bill from Munfordville, 

And little Jack Sego. 

"We gathej*ed around a mutton shop, 

Some darkies had to sell, 
In the afternoon I gave them a tune, 

Things moved off pretty well. 



A PROMINENT YOLiNG MAN. 

There is a prominent young man 

Who lives out of town, 

He stays at home with his ^la, 

I am afraid some day he is going to run a^'ay 

And live with his father-in-law. 

He courts a little girl 

Sixteen years old. 

Just as pretty as she can be, 

She had a pug nose and wears boys clothes, 

She never looked like a girl to me. 

This prominent young man 

Must be in a trance, 

If he really is looking for a wife ; 

If he takes a liltle girl that wears knee pants, 

He will make the mistake of his life. 

He goes there courting 
Every Saturday night, 
And stays just as long as he can, 

(24) 



1 have tliouulit for some time he was surely color bliiii! 
For he can't toll a woman from a man. 

This prominent young man is a ^reat politician, 
And you know I am a pretty good g'uesser, 
He will tell his little girl 
How he will take her through the world 
When he gets 1o lie the County Assessor. 

lie can see in the miii'or liis future career, 

While husiness has opened up grand, 

He has him a joh 

'Till the election comes off 

Working foi- a i>icture man. 

One morning in Jun>, he started out soon, 

To canvass the county once more. 

He spent one day 

With Mr. Joudau K., 

And landed at the town of Neeilmore. 

In this beautiful town tliat sits ou a hill. 
With her electric lights all shining, 
This prominent young man 
With a pack in his hand. 
Stood there all night a pining. 

Next morning they say, at the break of day. 

He left this little town in a whoop, 

And went down the lanes. 

Toward Aunt C'assie Pane's, 

And took an order for a ten dollar group. 

At Aunt Cassi" Pane's he made some change, 

And business was looking so fair, 

He spent three days 

At Larkin Ray's. 

And did some business there. 

(25) 



He worked a week on Bacon Creek, 

And eame back home to stay. 

For sandhill tricks 

And politics, 

Has sucked his blood away. 

He went to see his girl again, they had a conversation, 
He looked so pale and thin she wept to beat the nation, 
And if he does recuperate, his blood builds up again, 
He will never be tricked in politics, 
Or fooled by a picture man. 



TWO GOOD NETOHBORS. 



I knew some folks in the neighborhood 

They lived very close together, 
They were mute as a mouse till there came a drouth 

And a change took place in the M'eather. 

It does seem strange how men forget 

They are feeble worms of the dust, 
While God in his wisdom held back the rain, 

The boys got into a fuss. 

These two boys were once good friends, 

'Till they had this falling out. 
I inquired around 'till I really found 

What it was all about. 

Neighbor Jones had a claim on a ringtail dog, 

Neighbor Puckett, he did not like it. 
It 's plain to see and the folks tell me 

That is just what started the racket. 

Neighbor Puckett, he owned a razor backed hog 
He thought he was a great possessor. 

Neither one claimed the ringtailed dog 
When they met the County Assessor. 

(26) 



EUCLID OX A BOO.M. 

Some folks complain about the rain. 

While Euclid's on a boom. 
!McKinley Caswell without a dazzle 

Still on his honeymoon. 

The cats and dogs about the mill 

Are always on the plunder. 
But the old mill rat, that wears the hat, 

Is the one that plays the thunder. 

There is Uncle Dave he can't behave, 
He has sued the town for slanders, 

Just all the same the ynicked his name, 
And called him Hardin Sanders. 

Little barefoot feet upon the street, 

^lost anything expected, 
Grown folks too are passing through 

Almost stark mother naked. 

Down at the store you will find a score. 
And yet there is plenty of room, 

If you don't believe me just stop and see 
That Euclid on a boom. 



A NEW BLACKSMITH SHOP. 

It hasn't been long since John and Tom, 

They gladly left their crop, 
Moved to the town of Munfordville 

To run a blacksmith shop. 

When opened wide, first thing they tried : 
They were not out for cheating, 

3Iade a saw mill for Spencer Bill, 
And mended one for Eaton. 

(27). 



They worked a week on a grabbing hoe 
And seemed to tliink it funny, 

While Norman Locke with ))are-foot stock 
Was waiting with the money. 

This blacksmith shop it beats a crop, 
You ought to see them do her, 

They made a contribution box 
And sold to Walker Brewer. 

And if you need some smithing done, 

The sign is on the door, 
Walk right in or come again 

You will tind us at the store. 



OLD KENTUCKY. 

Kentucky is noted for her wonderful caves 

Fine horses and women so fair. 
Fine whiskey and mules, wise men and fools 

And everything else that is rare. 

I'll tell you my brother she launches out farther 

Than any other state or nation. 
She is noted for musicians and instruments 

And her ways of transportation. 

Joe Stewart rides in his automobile. 
He moves o'er the plains in a hurry. 

There is poor Bill Self. T know he'd get left, 
Stuck up in tlie mud with a surry. 

Dr. J. King has bought him a thing, 

To carry his wife and daughter. 
He seems to be tickled, but it's no motor cycle. 

For it moves right along on the water. 

(28) 



Oscar L. Logsdon has a ])eautit'ul horse, 
It moves as the wings of a lark, 

I'll speak it out bold, I believe to my soul 
It is the one Noah took in the Ark. 

Miss Bertha Ray I 'm proud to say, 
She stays at home with her mother, 

She has a beautiful instrimient 
And plays just like my l)rother. 

J. T. Puekett is a great musician. 

Most equal to Mr. IMorgan, 
But Bill Crenshaw he'll scratch and paw 

For a solo on his organ. 

Eli Bradley is all tuned up 

An instrument left with IMike Tharpe, 
A man in Kentucky has joined in the band 

With a big Bull Mooser Harp. 

Many things left to go in this rhyme, 
We have not the space you all know; 

If Bill Self gets out of the mud in time, 
We'll start up a Minstrel Show. 



A PLACE OF ENTERPRISE WHERE PEOPLE 
NEVER WOKK. 

I remember well though small in size, 

I was always on the shirk. 
And sought a place of enterprise, 

Where people never work. 

I stole away one sununer day, 

I cannot tell you how; 
I saw a man who laid the plan 

And shot my neighbor's cow. 

(29) 



The slierifif eame and arrested Bill 

And took me on snii>rise, 
A siinmions call to Miinfordville 

The place of enterprise. 

^iy cotton pants were very thin, 

My barefoot feet Avere raw, 
But any wa.y I had to stay, 

And I'll tell you what I saw. 

Tile folks in town they gathered around, 

•fust like a swarm of 'bees, 
AN'ithout a doubt F soon found out 

There was something- in the breeze. 

The lawyers croaked and cracked their jokes. 

And eat their chicken pies, 
They had it in for country folks, 

At the place of enterprise. 

So Bill proved l)eyond a doubt 

He had only played a joke. 
With neighbor Tom he loved so long. 

Of course he had some hope. 

Little Frank Brents was a man of sense, 

Cold sweat stood on his brow ; 
AVhen they hung the man for fifty cents. 

That shot my neighbor's cow. 

Poor Bill, he died a horrible death. 

His soul passed in the skies, 
At the hand of men who laugh and grin. 

At the i^lace of enterprise. 

And when the trial was over. 
Poor Bill Avas laid to rest : 

(30) 



Some things are true that I have told to you,. 
The rest I have had to guess. 

So I left in a hurry for the cemetery, 

To see her marbles grand : 
I looked upon the resting place 

Of Captain .John Donan. 

A country lad I felt so sad 

For home my heart did lurk. 
While at the place of Adam's race 

Where people never work. 




31) 



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